Lucy Goosey
by Corcey
Summary: Ever since the sorting, Lucy Weasley has been "the resident Slytherin" and she's sick of it.


When I was younger, my mum would call me "Lucy Goosey". She has not adorned that nickname on me in six years.

Hello, I guess it's polite to say hello to my reader. Especially when they're taking their valuable time to read my story.

Who is this polite person whose life you are going to read about? Lucy Weasley, the only Weasley in the outstanding history of Weasleys to not be sorted into Gryffindor. In fact, I was sorted into the absolute worst one to be sorted in (if you are in my family): Slytherin.

When that hat was on my head, everyone was expecting yet another of the long line of Weasleys to be set into the ancient house of Gryffindor. Some people questioned whether or not to waste time sorting all the Weasleys and just put them in Gryffindor automatically.

I could see my cousin Dominique, who was sorted into Gryffindor right before me, making room for me next to her at the table. I was not worried at all; I was a Weasley, for heaven's sake! I was sure to be in Gryffindor.

Yep, my fate was sealed. That was, until, the loudmouth hat opened it with one word:

"SLYTHERIN!"

Silence. No one dared smile at me, the wrong Weasley, as I speed-walked to a vacant place at the Slytherin table, not daring to glance at anyone, especially any relative. Snares were sent my way by my fellows, except for the occasional blank stare.

There were only a couple people who gave me soft smiles, so I sat down next to them. They were clearly my age, for I had seen them be sorted before me.

"Hi, I'm Sarafina, Sarafina Montague," a girl with a tight braid holding her almost black, dark brown hair, matching her sparkling eyes.

"Tobias Tristen," a boy with darkish-blonde hair and a dullish blue gaze.

"Lucy Weasley," I whispered back as Marla Wood was being placed in Ravenclaw.

"Shouldn't you be at that table, then?" Sarafina grinned, pointing at the Gryffindors.

"You heard the hat," I said sadly.

"You're in for a rough seven years," Sarafina assumed, using the glowers from our peers to prove her point.

We were soon joined by probably the most handsome boy in the whole school in my opinion, B.J. (or Blaise Junior) Zabini. Together, Sarafina, Tobias, B.J. and I were friends, to this day we are. They were the only Slytherins who accepted me. The only people in the school that accepted me, I should correct.

Unlike what Sarafina predicted, only the next two weeks were horrible. How did I make this transition? I did it by breaking Gerry Goyle's arm in a fight. An act that earned me two months detention, and a major scolding from my mother and father when I got home for Christmas break. It was worth it. From then on, the other Slytherins did not attempt to provoke me, in fear of what would happen to their arms.

Of course, that Christmas break was the one that I noticed my mum stopped the "Lucy Goosey" name. To this day, I still do not know whether it was because she thought I was too old after going to school or if she thought that I was a now a different person since I was positioned in Slytherin house. As she is my mother, I would like to think it was the former.

I talked about this whole "Lucy Goosey" business with B.J. and before I knew it, he began identifying me as that.

I don't really know the exact point when B.J. and mine's relationship became more… intense. It was about fourth year when we commenced making suggestive comments to each other, exchanging tiny moments that at the time we considered merely friendly. That was the gradual change.

The immediate change was when we snogged in the common room one night in fifth year…

I could not sleep, so I decided to grab a book and, since Sarafina is a sensitive sleeper, went into the common room for light.

After half a chapter, I heard footsteps coming in the direction of the boys' dormitories. B.J. emerged from the stairs, obviously surprised to see me on the green couch in the common room.

"What are you doing up so late?" he asked.

"Well, what are you?" I countered.

He smirked sleepily, "I woke up and I heard someone in here. I was curious who would be in the common room so late. Your turn."

"I wanted to read," I showed him my book. "Though, I didn't want to wake any of the other girls."

"Hmm…" he mumbled as he sat next to me, trying to read the book over my shoulder.

"You know I hate it when you do that," I said, turning my head to him.

"I know, Lucy Goosey," his smirk widened while he kissed my forehead, something he did in a friendly manner since we were third years. The thing that did not make this friendly was that he continued kissing me down my nose.

I looked at him directly in the eyes before I myself closed the gap between our lips, his responding as eagerly as mine. We held each other tight enough that you could not even slip a needle between us. Our kiss deepened by the second, tongues caressing.

We only ceased when we really, _really _were in need of air. When B.J. and I separated mouths to catch our breath, we would connect our lips again the moment we stopped gasping.

Once we finish our last round, not letting go of his grip of me, he asked, "Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me? Like a date?"

"On two conditions," I compromised. "We never go to Madam Puddifoot's and my family doesn't find out."

"Why can't your family know?" B.J. questioned.

"They wouldn't understand."

That was over a year ago. B.J. and I have been able to keep our secret.

I am now sixteen and am going to embark on one of the most dangerous nights of the year: Christmas dinner at the Potter home.

My older sister, who is in seventh year, Molly and I sat in the back of our family's old car. My dad was driving and my mum was sitting quietly. All was normal.

Skipping through the boring greetings and all the aunts, uncles and grandma and grandpa saying how pretty Molly is and how they are proud that I got an O on almost all my tests, except for an E in divination. That's how it always was. Molly was the beautiful, popular one and I did my homework.

Through most the beginning, everyone was chattering about all the other kids, how they were doing, blah, blah, blah.

"So how is our resident Slytherin?" uncle Bill teased.

"Great. A couple friends and I are dissecting rats we find in the dungeons," I joked.

"Ewww!" cousin Rose shrieked, utterly repulsed. "Really?"

"Yeah, we're trying to work our way up to lions," I laughed at the look on her face.

Now let's fast forward to dinner time…

"I am _not_ eating that," I protested as uncle Ron endeavored to put a pile of meat on my plate.

"How can you not eat meat?" he said. "That's bad for you, that is."

"No it isn't," I opposed. "Muggle studies have shown that vegetarians live longer than non-vegetarians, and it reduces cholesterol and the risks of some fatal diseases."

"Muggle studies?" Ron scowled. "You're a witch, not a muggle."

"Our bodies work the same way."

"Ronald," aunt Hermione intervened. "Lucy has made her own choice not to eat meat, and we will not bother her about it."

"It is not natural," he said. "Giving up good meat."

"Do you know what you're eating?" I said defiantly. "Animal _flesh_. I cannot see how you all can shovel that down while innocent souls are being _slaughtered_."

"Lucy!" Grandma Weasley warned.

"I'm only the messenger," I shrugged.

"I don't think I want my beef now," Lily sounded nauseated as she placed the meat that was on her plate back onto the platter.

"Lucy!" aunt Ginny blamed, scooping up the beef and replacing it on Lily's plate, "Lily, honey, the meat is perfectly fine."

Lily was reluctant to consume the animal protein after that episode.

Out of the whole gathering, I thought the single good part was seeing Victoire and Teddy's toddler, Sherrie. She is so cute. We had to put a shower curtain on the floor underneath the highchair so she would not get any food on the carpet. Throwing food is always the favorite sport of children her age.

"Sherrie's going to be a food critic when she grows up," Albus commented. "That baby food is disgusting."

"You know that from experience Albus?" I said. "Usually we don't remember things like that." He simply rolled his eyes in reply.

"Victoire dared me one night to eat some of it once," Teddy recalled. "Albus is right, it was _terrible_."

"I didn't think you would actually eat it," Victoire shook her head, beaming gently.

Everything was semi-normal until dessert, chocolate pie. My favorite. Then, my sister had to ruin it all.

"So Lucy," Molly said slyly. "What's this I hear about you and some guy at school?"

My gaze met her quickly, surprised that she knew.

"It's not one of those Slytherin boys, is it?" uncle Ron was first to speak.

"I'm not going out with anyone," I denied.

"_I_ heard that you were dating another Slytherin boy." Molly was such a snob.

"_I_ heard that you were screwing Lorcan Scamander," I mimicked, recalling the gossip that I was sure was true.

"I am not!" she rejected at the same time as several forks dropped to the table and dad choked on a piece of pie. "Those are only rumors!"

"Are… are you dating a Slytherin?" dad seemed to trust Molly's word, but not mine. Even though I have never actually lied to anyone. Your remarks mean nothing when you are in Slytherin in this family.

"Why would it even matter if he's a Slytherin or not?" I asked. "_I'm_ a Slytherin!"

"So there is a boy?" uncle Harry caught.

I should just tell them, they're going to find out anyway. "It's B.J.," I said, defeated, wishing to move on. I satisfied their curiosity, now we can be done with it, right? Wrong.

"B.J.?" uncle Ron said. "You mean that Zabini?"

"You're dating a Zabini?" dad spoke.

"I thought you two were only friends," mum frowned.

"Not anymore."

"No, you're not dating him," dad was shaking his head. "I will not allow it."

"What?" I nearly shouted. "You can't do that. You can't control my life like that."

"I most certainly can."

"No you can't!" I now reverted to shouting. "The only reason you don't like him is because he is in Slytherin! The only reason you don't like me is because I'm in Slytherin!"

"Lucy…" mum tried to calm me but I would not be calm at a time where I could finally let out what I wanted to say for years but was too meek to express.

"No!" I protested. "I can't date, but Molly gets to shag anything with a-."

"Lucy!" mum interrupted.

"Why do you all have to turn on me about the whole dating thing, and not bat an eyelash when I said that Molly was with Lorcan? I'll bet everything I have it's because I'm in Slytherin and therefore a liar! I'm not a fraud, I don't cheat, I don't steal, the only time I got into trouble was that fight in first year, and I didn't start it, but no matter what I do I get treated like I'm some sort of criminal. You all _never_ take what I say seriously. I didn't _choose_ this! And I'm sick and tired of being condemned for something I can't control."

With no responses, I stormed out of the house, grabbing my coat and shoving my arms through hurriedly and running down the block.

When I was certain no one could catch up to me (and that my lungs would explode if I did not slow down), I slugged my pace to a walk.

After a quite few minutes, my body's heat went away and I felt the coldness of the winter's night swallow me. Within the subsequent half hour, I was shivering. I knew I should've worn a warmer coat, but I did not anticipate me running away.

I had no clue where I was going, or how worried my mother must be right then, so I kept sauntering. How much longer until I needed sleep? Until I needed food again? How will I get home when I have no idea how to get through the maze of residential areas?

Step by step, I continued my march of defiance against my family. Against my position. Against being the "resident Slytherin".

Cars passed by me, lights rushed as they sped by, some going way too fast for driving in a district like this. One car, though, was driving at a velocity to challenge a sloth. When that car reached me, the window rolled down and I recognized the face instantly.

"I'm not going back there, uncle Harry," I told him.

"Come on, Lucy, everyone's been searching the blocks for you," he said.

"Tell them they don't have to waste their energy," I said through clenched teeth.

"Lucy, get in the car," uncle Harry demanded in a soft voice. "You're probably freezing. Your father's only trying to do what he thinks is best for you."

"By ignoring his loose daughter and concentrating on the one who is fine but is living in an enemy house three fourths of the year. That's fair to Molly."

"I know it's not fair. But you must understand that this is strange for everyone," Harry tried to reason. "You're different from everyone else."

"No, I'm not!" I argued, losing my temper once more. "Just because I'm in a house that has a reputation of evil and liars, doesn't signify that I'm one."

"We're not saying that."

"Then what are you saying? Ever since the day I was sorted, whenever it was my word against one of the other cousins, no matter if I was telling the truth, I was the wrong one."

"It's hard," he agreed. "And we shouldn't have done that, it's difficult to believe that… we hated Slytherins before, and now that one of our family is a Slytherin, it's just confusing."

"I'm sorry I'm making everything so puzzling for everyone," I gritted my jaw tighter.

"Lucy, get in the car," Harry lapsed to his first insist.

"It's not fair," I ignored his command. "I'm the wrong Weasley. A family traitor."

"You are not a traitor," he maintained. "And you most certainly are not wrong. You only have different traits than the rest of the family. You're extremely determined, that's a Slytherin quality that isn't bad. Who else in our family could give up on delicious animal fat if they did not have that much ambition." I laughed at him calling meat "animal fat" usually I was the only one who said that.

"Another feature is resourcefulness, which you have," uncle Harry explained. "Remember when you were still going to that muggle school and you had to make a diorama of fifteenth century England. And you made the castle out of brownies."

"And everyone ate my project before I could turn it in, so I had to use painted butterbeer caps."

"There you go!" uncle Harry smiled. "Very resourceful! And you save all those shoeboxes to store things, and jelly jars. You are not wrong because you have different characteristics; everyone is unique. And there are Slytherin students who are not wicked."

"Don't you think I know that?" I snapped. "Sarafina, Tobias and B.J. are very nice. In fact, they're nicer than a lot of students from different houses."

"Exactly, this whole house thing is only based on the most basic of characteristics, every house has its good and its bad kids, and we were mistaken to forget that every so often."

"Every so often?" I rolled my eyes.

"Alright, alright," uncle Harry smiled grimly. It was then I realized that I no longer was walking and the car was not, either. "I'm sorry whenever I did that, and if you get into the car and we drive home, and you talk to your parents like a civil people, they might apologize, too. But you also need to apologize for running out like that. You're mother is scared half to death."

I sighed, figuring that it was my cue to get into the car now, so I walked over to the passenger door on the other side and got in. The warmth felt so wonderful. I put my frozen hands up to the radiator to warm them quicker.

It was a long ride home, or at least it seemed that way to me.

What was I to say to my parents? Turns out I really didn't need to think it over, because uncle Harry was wrong.

I walked into the house, suddenly attacked by hugs from my mum who looked as though she had been crying, but she said not a word.

My father just instructed me, "Get in the car."

I obeyed, along with Molly who took the time to say goodbye to all the cousins, while I only mutter a "bye" and left to the empty seat in the automobile, awaiting me.

The car ride was hushed, not one utterance was exchanged and the radio was my ear's only business, until my dad mumbled the one sentence to me, which I wanted to protest to but knew it would be useless and I could not walk out of a moving car on the highway.

"This changes nothing," he said. "You are not dating him as long as I am your father. All boys are the same."

What he meant by "all boys" was "all Slytherins".

*

That night, I was lying in bed in the dark. My throat cradled a huge lump, I could not see clear enough to distinguish the time from the glowing numbers purely four inches away from my eyes.

I was about to fall asleep when a scratching on my window was sounded. Groaning, my feet found the cold floor. I opened the window and a brown owl flew it, and dropped a piece of parchment on my desk. I was aware that the owl was Max, B.J.'s owl. Max flew off once again with a few treats I gave him in his beak.

Opening the parchment it read in his messy scroll:

_Lucy, __  
__Please meet me at the park near your house. __  
__B.J._

How in the world would he get to my city? I'll ask him when I meet him. I was almost ecstatic to think that I would be seeing B.J. soon.

I pulled on a pair of jean, a sweatshirt, my old sneakers and a warm coat. To sneak out of this house, a person must be on their tiptoes the entire time and be cautious of the creaking points on the stairs. Without so much as one "creeeeeeeeaaaakkkkkk!" from the stairs I was able to make my escape.

The park was plainly four blocks away, a figure I knew as B.J. was sitting on one of the swings that I was very familiar with when I was a bit younger.

Approaching the handsome boy who stood up when he saw me coming, I noted his expression of worry.

"What happened?" he asked. "You've been crying."

"My family found out," I croaked, I did not intentionally whisper it, but it came out as one.

"Oh," was his reply, he then wrapped his arms around me as an attempt for my comfort. I clung to him as he rubbed my back in smooth circles, murmuring in my ear. "It's okay. Everything will be all right. Everything's all right." I wish it were true. "It's all okay."

We could have been standing there for hours and I would not know. Finally, I remembered to ask the questions I was pondering on the stride to the park.

"How did you get here?"

"I borrowed a car from one of my neighbors that owes me a favor," he told me, motioning to the old Honda civic parked near the curb.

"On Christmas day?"

"I figured something out today and I definitely could not be able to tell you it in a letter," B.J. said, his hazel eyes fixed on my blue.

"And you couldn't wait until school?" I smiled, "not that I'm complaining you're here."

"No," he grinned. "Do you want to hear it now?"

"Of course!"

"I love you, Lucy Goosey."

I gazed in shock at him. Love? We never talked about love before. How was I to respond to that? I never thought about us being in love. I thought about us being together for a long time. I thought about how much I liked him.

But, if I did think about it… If I did have time to contemplate what this meant. If I did have time to consider all my emotions and feelings for him. If I did sit for hours alone and analyze our relationship. If I did all this, I'm certainly sure my answer would have been the same as what I replied with:

"I love you, too."

And, for that moment in my life, it did not matter if my mother called me "Lucy Goosey" anymore or not.

*

Well, that's my story. Please review it, because it will make the girl who wrote it down very happy.


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